When last we left you our heroes (Williams and yours truly) were on our way to NYC.

(Shut up I can to play the hero. I mean after all this is my blog.)

(Jerks.)

We were on our way to NYC. I had been looking forward to it. The excitement was sort of past tense by this point and we hadn’t even left Ohio yet. I don’t want this part to come out wrong. I fully expected to have a good time. I did. Williams was excited to show me all the places he loved. I had been excited about the possibility of being inspired by new surroundings. I mean it was going to be my first time in NYC. By the point the trip actually took place (literally days after Christmas) I was a little worried about money.

Yeah kiddos unemployment is a whole lotta fun. I was preoccupied with the thoughts of not spending too much. Also I’m not so use to being without the wifey. We aren’t attached at the hips or anything. We do things separately all the time but it has been a long time since last I slept without her.

My mind was a bit preoccupied. We pointed Brynhildr (pronounced Brunhilda) toward NYC and our trip began. We were on the road, not much unlike Jack Kerouac so many years ago. Actually probably not really like him at all. You know besides the fact that we are writers and the Rizza has been known to call me Ginsberg before.

(That and we’ve both read ‘On the Road’ many times)

AnyRealStretch the original plan (or the 3rd version of the original plan) had us leaving on the day after Christmas. The fact that he never renewed his plates after his December birthday delayed this fact. So instead of leaving on Sunday we planned for an early Monday morning start.

(I know if you read yesterdays post—ha ha—you already know this)

This changing of plans allowed me to attend a friend/family holiday party that we do every year. Of course as the day moved along NY was being hit with a huge snowstorm. Said snowstorm leads everyone to assume that was the reason we weren’t going that day. The horror and amazement flashed across each and every single face as they asked me about it. They pleaded with me not to go. They wondered why we would still consider going. All the while the same basic thing was happening with him.

(Oh won’t someone please think of the children!)

There was worry. We however weren’t too concerned about it. That is not to say we went in all willy nilly. Oh no I did change up my packing a bit because of it. I included my boots. Later that night I’ll have wished I wore them instead of packing them. After Princess Leia and starbucks we were on our way. He with his 3 or so plastic bags of his clothes and I with my camera bag, computer bag, messenger bag and huge red duffel bag loaded into his gulf.

We were making good time. Great time really. We stopped a little bit outside of Pennsylvania for some grub. Tacobell was on the menu. Up until this point there was nothing but bright blue (read light gray) skies and some sun. As we loaded into the Taco Bell/Long John Silver’s a few flurries began to fall. Were these tiny wet pieces of snow a sign of things to come or an anomaly? We enjoyed our tacos, nachos and Mountain Dew Baja blasts.

Slowly Long John began to take his revenge. The room began to fill with the stink of fish. This was as good a time to leave as any. I got my first call from the wifey of the trip. Can you guess the first question? How was the weather? My answer: Some flurries just—and just like that they were gone.

The weather held in this manner until we closed in on NJ and NY. At this point the roads grew icier and there was finally evidence of snow. As we approached the exit we would take to get to his place we found it closed. This made our decision as to whether not to go into Manhattan first or just to his place. If taking a different route we might as well go into the city for dinner. Plus he was ranting about a diner in Chelsea.

The Highway became snowy—road wise not falling from the sky wise. There were cop cars “directing” people and plows a plenty. No worries. We trudged on.

“Here is this bridge.” And “that bridge” and “this cool thing over there”

Finally we made it into Manhattan and there was snow everywhere. It was plowed snow (mostly) of course but tons of snow nonetheless. Sidewalks looked dangerous. People were walking in the streets (not really a snow thing tho.) and some parked cars appeared to be almost completely covered in the white powder.

“Here is the diner. We’ll be going there for brunch sometime. Great brunch. Great drinks.” Williams said pointing.

“Cool.” I say as we turn a corner.

“I know let’s go to dinner at the diner now. If we can find some parking that is. We may have to walk a bit but I’ll find a spot.” He turned. Turned again and then one more time.

Bumpy snow covered side street. Bam we were stuck. Not in NYC 5 minutes and we are stuck in the snow. He tries. He talks to Brynhi sweetly if not creepily. Nothing. It is time for me to push. It wouldn’t be my last time either….

So I get out. It’s not too cold. I mean I’m always warmer than most people think I should be. It may be because they assume a Florida boy can’t possibly handle the cold. Who knows? I push. Push. Push.

NOTHING.

He revs. I push. Push. Push.

Oh a little movement. Almost….nope still stuck. Just then a guy walking down the snow challenged (say what??) street stops. He asks if we’re stuck.

“No dipsy doodle we like standing outside the car like this in the middle of the street.” I thought. Damn I must be infected with the New York charm already. I think back to all the representations of New Yorkers I’ve seen. They’re always mean and mean to awesome people like The Ninja Turtles and Spider-Man. Great.

Now I’m stereotyping and he’s putting his bag down in the snow and helping us push.

You see! All you damn stereotypers assuming the NY guy was mean.

(Bastards. Open your minds!)

He helped us get out and then went on his way like some sort of NY accent having Caine walking the earth helping people stuck in the snow.

(Kung Fu and Kung Fu the legend continues bitches look it up!)

He of course also asked “Are you from New York?” which would also become a theme of the trip. We hit up the diner which is Greek for 15 dollar chicken fingers. I had an Arnold Palmer with Citron. The food was good. The company and writing talk was better. It was nice to be out of a car.

The waitress was sweet and the night and trip was starting to look good. Perhaps New Yorkers get a bad rap. I (and the guy who selflessly helped us) had single handedly destroyed a stereotype!

Today is Thursday and you know what that means. Well yes it does mean Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia returns. That was a mean thing of you to point out. I mean I can’t compete with Sunny. Why even bother?

It also means it’s time for another TMI Thursday. I know I know you can hardly contain your excitement. It’s been a while (not really) and technically I should begin some of the chronicling the Key West roadie.

But it is our first Thursday back and well when I told Pelvic Joann and the wifey the story they were thoroughly grossed out.

So I’m back. I’m baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack in the saddle again.

So as I was thinking about what joke to make about Steven Tyler (drugs and alcohol being too easy) something hit me. This freaked me out because there’s nobody else here.

Heyoooooooooo!

I was going to go with how he resembles a (wide mouth) vase when he sings and doll up some vase with hair and scarves but that seemed like too much work.

Lazy ftw!

As I looked at pictures of Mr. Tyler there was a joke that wanted to come out but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Because of the restraining order it has out on me. Heyoooooooooooo!
(What?)

He looked awful familiar to me—but who? And then I figured it out:

Am I right? He is so creepy.

Anybeautyandthebeastjokes I should probably move on. This TMI Thursday took places on the Three Shillelagh’s Hunt for the Key Master Tour (2010)

(Uhm what other year would it be?)

Sorry I digressed yet again. (I do that a lot.)

I’m writing this as we make our way into the rainy Florida night (10:33pm) on the final leg of the trip (to Key West). As we do we are listening to Katy Perry so yeah there might be some more digressing.

(Roar)

(See.)

We decided it was best to stop at a gas station and fill up the tank right before truly hitting the way to Key West. The rain was slowly coming down as we headed into the store to stock up on some drinks and what not. We bought a couple big pineapple (there were no big peach like in GA) to mix with the pinnacle whip vodka.

As Pelvy and I paid for our stuff the wife grabbed the key to the bathroom (it was outside) and took care of the diet Pepsi max she drank on the drive. I figured after I paid I’d head on over to the crapper and drain the lizard (make a sissy—take that wife!) My turn finally came and as I waited for it to be approved I felt the annoying (and often terrible) rumblings.

This did not bode well.

I mean the stomach rumblings and grumblings at a crappy looking Florida gas station late at night. Unfortunately it wasn’t going to be up for discussion. It wasn’t urgent or anything but I didn’t want to start a 3 or so hour drive with the need to film The Hunt for the Brown October.

I paid grabbed the grubby looking keys and handed off my purchases to the wifey. I made my way to the bathroom and switched the lights on. There was trash (empty candy wrappers and soda cans) on the floor. The rain from outside (or at least what I hope was mostly rain) had tracked in and made the floor very slippery.

One step in and I almost fell.

Woah.

2nd step inside as the door closes and yet another slip. This time I almost fell. I mean one foot came way up and I had to grab onto the sink to stop from falling. This is the time that my head went down near (not too near thankfully) to the toilet. Of course I was not too happy with what I saw. In the watery grave was a hill of poop and brown tinted toilet paper. It was high.

Some dick head didn’t flush this I thought to myself. Well just flush it first.

Oh.

There wasn’t even a handle. Or any other discernable way to flush either. Whatever. I can probably hold it. Maybe just take care of the pee part.

I peed.
I thought maybe I’d save someone else by destroying the fortress of poo and tp. The water in the bowl muddied a bit but otherwise the hill did not change. Washed my hands grabbed the key and made my way out.

Slip.

And as I caught myself for the 3rd time there was another slip. This one of the insides variety and it became apparent that it’d be best to take care of the filming of the sequel to the Hunt for the Red October right then and there.

Someone call Alec Baldwin!

I looked back in to the toilet. I sighed and decided that sitting down (the seat amazingly looked pretty clean) was not really an option. The hill of poop looked dangerously close to where the butt would rest. So I hovered and let go.

And let go some more.

And a little bit more.

Then I wiped and looked down.

If it was a math equation it would look like this: pre poo + jimi poo = poo hill over the brim.

Yes kiddies that picture isn’t exaggerating all that much. The poop reached a bit over the top of the bowl. I washed my hands, returned the keys and jumped in the car.

Of course I told them right away. The Katy Perry was momentarily replaced by a chorus of disgust by the ladies. I knew I had a tmi post for when I returned.